


If It's Not You (It's Not Anyone)

by ruiseu



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Romance, Sight Crack, Unwanted butt slapping, cursing, lots of bickering, lots of swearing too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:41:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29325657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruiseu/pseuds/ruiseu
Summary: Had Jongin not been there the moment Kyungsoo turned around to find the idiot who slapped his butt, unprovoked, then maybe all this high school drama wouldn’t have messed their university life in the first place (or, alternatively, maybe Kyungsoo is secretly thankful it had been Jongin all along, and not anyone else).
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Jongin | Kai
Comments: 10
Kudos: 69
Collections: Swords and Hearts 2020





	If It's Not You (It's Not Anyone)

**Author's Note:**

> **Code:** SAH 242  
>  **Prompt:** Jongin's friend gropes the nerd's ass in the hallway, but it is Jongin that gets slapped instead.  
>  **Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction and none of the characters are owned by Swords and Hearts. All creative rights and ownership of this particular work of fiction lie with the respective authors.**
> 
> **Author's Note:** This is a total whack fksdsdfksd; wrote off the prompt but tweaked it a little bit and made it more lighthearted. Hope the lovely readers will enjoy the fic nonetheless! <3

Everybody be having a good day until a Kim Jongin comes along.

Mondays aren’t for everybody, but today it is, for Do Kyungsoo. Today is special because it’s officially the last day of University Week (yes, on a Monday) and Kyungsoo had just found out he got the highest grade in Modern Literature; a research paper he’d busted his ass in for a good 3 days.

The closing ceremony had just ended. Professors and students crowd the hallway either chattering in groups or heading for the cafeteria for lunch. Kyungsoo is with his friends, Kim Jongdae and Byun Baekhyun, and they’re standing by the lockers animatedly discussing the upcoming group paper work. Apparently, Jongdae doesn’t want to write anything concerning the Victorian era, but Baekhyun insists, saying _it’s regal and elegant and it can earn us an 80 up mark if we could come up with an exquisite write-up together!_

In between the onslaught of an argument and the rush of people conspicuously marching by, Kyungsoo stiffens when he feels an uncalled impact of skin against his very own ass. It’s quick, but it’s definitely, and undeniably, unmistakable. Someone just _spanked_ him.

The touch is so foreign that it sends shivers and fumes all over Kyungsoo’s body, making him feel embarrassed, surprised, angry, violated. He peels himself away from the shock and turns around to find the perpetrator. The first (and nearest) person Kyungsoo sees is a tall guy walking unhurriedly with his back hunched, head looking down and attention focusing on his phone. Suspicious. He’s the only one who isn’t facing anybody, like he’s guilty of something. Such a criminal move.

“Uh, Soo?” Baekhyun is perplexed at the sudden reaction while Jongdae blinks, feeling the same degree of confusion. Kyungsoo stomps and catches up to the said person, roughly tapping on his back for attention.

“Hey you! Pervert!”

The man turns around slowly and Kyungsoo is greeted with the sight of sleepy, hooded eyes and pouty lips. A sliver of confusion is evident on the person's face when he sees Kyungsoo glaring at him full front. _Kim Jongin_ , the embroidery on his jacket says.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? You touched my ass just now. You thought you did something, huh?” His own voice is getting loud now, Kyungsoo knows, and he makes sure to reiterate every syllable like he’s convincing himself this man had just done the exact thing Kyungsoo is accusing him of.

Kim Jongin looks bewildered. Kyungsoo internally scoffs. Really now, this guy even has the nerve to actually feel scandalized.

“I did what to you just now? I’m sorry, I think you’re mistaken here.”

“I think not. I saw you right away when I turned around after the slap.” Kyungsoo turns even angrier. “You’re not getting away with this, perv.”

“I’m not a fucking perv!”

Kim Jongin’s voice heightens out of frustration, effectively catching the attention of literally everyone in the hallway. Now the crowd is zeroing on them, and Kyungsoo is suddenly hyperaware of everything– the hushed voices, the curious stares, the blatant irritation seeping from Kim Jongin’s (gorgeous) frown– and they make Kyungsoo seethe even more.

Luckily, Professor Jinki steps in right on time, breaking the scene and ordering the crowd to disperse and go about their own day. Beyond disdained, Kim Jongin throws Kyungsoo one last scowl before indignantly disappearing with the flock of students. Before Kyungsoo can even get the chance to throw some hands, Baekhyun comes just in time to drag the younger before he can set another foot forward.

“Do Kyungsoo!” Jongdae catches up, giving him an incredulous stare. “Sheesh, what the hell is going on?”

“That guy– Jongni- Jongin, whatever!” Kyungsoo huffs, trying to compose himself. The keyword is _try_ , because every cell in his body is still fuming. “Pervert. He basically harassed me, touched my ass like it was just his business any day!”

Jongdae reels. “You really saw him do that?”

“Yeah– well– no,” Kyungsoo purses his lips, whole face turning crimson. “But I just know it was him. He was there walking behind me!”

Jongdae and Baekhyun exchange looks. “You do realize you owe him an apology, right?” The eldest of the three crosses his arms. “Soo, you literally embarrassed him in front of everyone.”

Kyungsoo is in disbelief– well, partly, because the other half of him is humiliated– now that it has dawned onto him that his reaction was more of emotional rather than logical. Who could blame him, though? He feels a teeny tiny bit bad for embarrassing Kim Jongin like that, but Kyungsoo feels embarrassed too, and there’s no way he’s going to come up with an apology this instantly. It’s only going to hurt his pride and add another pile to the mountain of shame that’s prowling in his guts.

“Yeah, no. Maybe later.” Kyungsoo’s words hang with finality because the cafeteria bell rings right through the air, incessantly reminding the students of lunch break. He walks right ahead without another word, and Jongdae and Baekhyun can’t help but to fold to the stubbornness, for now. This is some next level high school drama in _university_ for god's sake, and they’re definitely too old and busy for this type of shit.

.

.

.

To be fair, Jongin thinks he has all the right to throw a little tantrum after the disastrous event that’s happened at the beginning of his week. Developing a feeling of dislike towards a person is one thing, but being humiliated and accused of sexual harassment by the same person is a whole other story.

From all the years of having successfully dodged pre-pubescent drama, Jongin can’t believe he’s actually dealing with one right now, in university, and it comes in the form of jet black hair and thick eyebrows behind even thicker rimmed glasses. A menacing force packed in one short stature. Being a dance major doesn’t make things any less troublesome, at all. On top of the physical exhaustion, Jongin has to deal with mental (and emotional) setbacks as well.

“I really think Growl and Love Shot would create the ideal hype among the students.”

“I mean yeah, technically the songs are fire, but I don’t think they’ll enjoy the complex choreography.” Sehun, Jongin’s best friend and fellow dance major, supplies.

Course 701S requires them to be both innovative and interactive where dance lessons are offered to the whole campus for free. This would train them with regards to confidence and professionalism. So far, their works have been favored by the general public, thankfully. They’ll just need the instructors’ grading by the end of the semester. Jongin and Sehun– along with a Chinese hyung named Yixing– have been undoubtedly creating magic on the dance floor together, and it goes with their individual choreographies as well.

“But they’ll eventually learn the gist though,” Jongin isn’t usually broody, but with the recent happening his mood and pouts have surmounted to greater lengths. He really wants this. His whole body is aching and his gut is telling _something_. “I really really think we should go with the 2 songs.”

“We can try out as much as we can,” Yixing, the eldest of the three, gently offers in an attempt to counter Jongin’s persistence. “We’ll start with Electric Kiss, like we originally planned to, and from there we’ll go to different tracks, okay?”

As if reminding him of the existing turmoil, Jongin thinks the universe might be playing dirty tricks as it constantly puts him and _Kyungsoo_ (he learns this after overhearing one of the shortie’s friends) in one place, together, almost everyday– the hallways, cafeteria, library, even inside lecture halls. It doesn’t do anything except fuel the simmering resentment inside him, more so between the two of them, if he were to be brutally honest. Kyungsoo would continue to throw him foul looks at any given chance. He would audibly scoff whenever Jongin is within earshot, and purposefully roll his eyes whenever Jongin is at an arm’s length. It’s petty, and childish, but after a week of these unpleasant encounters Jongin finds himself doing the same things towards the shorter, mostly out of sheer annoyance.

"Move, perv." Kyungsoo spits in between clenched teeth one day, the two of them reaching for the last carton of strawberry milk in the cafeteria. Since Jongin has the advantage of being taller, he uses his long limbs to take hold of the milk and he stays there, not even budging an inch even when Kyungsoo is already staring angry holes into the side of his face. "You've been drinking milk all this time.. but you're still short." Jongin bites back with a smirk.

Refusing to lose to the taller, Kyungsoo resorts to stepping on Jongin's foot, hard, causing the dancer to hiss in pain and eventually let go of the milk in the process. Kyungsoo successfully gets the carton all to himself, looking down on Jongin with a wry smile before walking back to his table with his head pathetically held high. "Fucking hell." Jongin curses.

If it were any other day though, Jongin would quietly admit to himself, from all the days and minutes he’d spent cursing Kyungsoo with his eyes, that the guy is actually pretty cute. Like, attractive cute, and he does have a nice ass. But Jongin will have to see pigs fly before he decides to say that out loud, because the irritation and dislike he feels for Kyungsoo is still way too overbearing to unclench for a single compliment.

.

.

.

The thing is, Kyungsoo had lost a bet he made with his best friends concerning the damned group paper work. They’ve been vouching for possible grades their Victorian write up could get– Baekhyun with a solid 85 (since it was his idea), Jongdae a 78, and Kyungsoo with his meager 75. Their paper goes on to score an 80 ultimately, and Kyungsoo having the farthest projection will have to do anything his two friends would want him to do.

“Jongdae and I have been wanting to try dance classes lately,” Baekhyun excitedly announces. “We want you to come with us and join the dance majors!”

Kyungsoo visibly deflates at the proposal. He _hates_ sweating and engaging in any vigorous physical activity of any sorts, that’s why he’d chosen to immerse in prose, poetry, and written works in the first place; aside from his genuine interest in literature of course.

“I think I’ll have to pass..” Kyungsoo tries, though he knows it will remain futile. “Can we just, I don’t know, go for morning brisk walks instead?”

“I blame these 1M Dance Studio vids randomly popping up on my Explore page.” Jongdae muses, clasping his hands. “Please, Soo, we just wanna try something new. We could actually be good at it you, know?”

Baekhyun nods incessantly. “It’s true, it’s true. Plus it’s free!”

Kyungsoo takes in the pathetic puppy dog eyes. He’s already hating the fact that he’d just lost and has to actually fulfill a stupid bet– he’s not about to stoop lower and actually step into a dance studio just to sweat and smell and stink.

The thing is, Kyungsoo did just that and might actually have gotten to his lowest, because two days later he’s already in the dance studio, looking like a child being forced to take piano lessons. Right in front of him are Baekhyun and Jongdae doing their stretches a little too enthusiastically, while other students are chatting and waiting for the dance majors to show up.

“Hey there, cheer up, emo boy!” Jongdae pats Kyungsoo’s head. He’s probably referring to Kyungsoo’s ominous black wardrobe, or the unsatisfied expression on his face. Or both.

“I probably will if we get to start asap.” Kyungsoo yawns. It’s 4:30 in the afternoon, and his favorite street food stand is going to close soon enough. He’d been planning to have tteokbokki and fish cake this week ever since they finished the paper for pre-mids.

Baekhyun rolls his neck. “You’re gonna keep those glasses, Soo? They might fall off or something.”

“I’m fine.”

Kyungsoo finds out he won’t be for too long though, because the dance majors slash instructors are finally here, all fresh and prepped in their dance shirts and sweatpants and basic rebooks. Kyungsoo looks at them and think they’re oddly familiar, presumably because students from this course– especially the good-looking ones– have always established a subtle and lowkey air of popularity around them. Kyungsoo likes it though. They aren’t flamboyant in the irritating sense.

There’s Sehun, the tall and cold-looking guy; Yixing, the Chinese student with charming dimples; and— now wait a damn second, what the fuck is this asshole doing here?

“Hi everyone, I’m Kim Jongin. Let’s enjoy today’s class,” says the guy who’d come in last.

 _So he’s a dance major?_ Kyungsoo ponders in disbelief. Well, he’s already found one thing he can hate about the course. He can hear girls actually swooning behind him, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. In his peripheral view, Jongdae and Baekhyun are exchanging antsy looks, and Kyungsoo cannot tell if he wants to laugh or actually cry it all off.

The class is divided into two sessions, and Kyungsoo is thankful that the first part has been relatively a breeze, emotionally that is. It’s physically hard, he’s not gonna lie, and Kyungsoo feels like dying with the buckets of sweat he’s already pouring out right now, but Yixing is a good teacher and Kyungsoo really appreciates that. Jongdae and Baekhyun are evidently tired as well, but the gleam in their eyes says so much about how they’re actually enjoying the activity despite the imminent exhaustion.

The students are divided into two groups, with Jongin being in charge of the other half. It’s probably the only thing Kyungsoo is grateful for. There hasn’t been any dreadful interaction so far. The dance major seemingly hasn’t taken notice of Kyungsoo’s presence yet, and Kyungsoo would very much like to keep it at that.

“Hey, can you show me how to do that step again?” Jongdae approaches Yixing during their water break, to which the instructor earnestly attends his concern. Kyungsoo and Baekhyun stand close, watching in awe and taking notes on how fluid and precise the execution should be.

The peace and quiet doesn't last long though, because a shadow suddenly looms over their little group, and Kyungsoo can hear that deep and annoyingly familiar voice slowly approaching them. 

“Yixing hyung, do you have an extra shirt?”

Jongin arrives and sees Kyungsoo right in front of him, in the flesh. The former’s eyes widen, face contorting into an expression of shock and disgust before his mouth lets out a loud scoff. “You— what are _you_ doing here?”

“Taking dance lessons, dumbass. What else am I here for?” Kyungsoo really doesn’t want to face Jongin, but the need to retaliate is so hard to resist and he isn’t about to let the tall douchebag belittle him just because he's in his turf. In this proximity, Kyungsoo notes that Jongin smells like musk and fabric detergent. The attribute itself should’ve been appealing, but because it’s Jongin it’s just turned into downright annoying.

Jongin actually guffaws, and then turns to Yixing. “Hyung, you’re gonna have a hard time teaching this shortie how to move.”

 _Shortie?!_ Did Jongin just call him short again, in front of everyone? “Oh wow,” Kyungsoo grits his teeth. “At least I don’t harass people like some fucking hobby.”

Yixing is still smiling, completely oblivious. “Actually, all of my students have been doing fine, Jongin. They practice hard–”

“Maybe except this one, hyung.” Something in Jongin had just ticked off, his face looking a lot more grim now. The aura in this part of the studio has become awfully perilous. “If I were really a perv though, I wouldn’t even touch his ass. Plus, nerds can’t dance.”

Kyungsoo is left speechless, ears red and eyebrows furrowing deep into a deadly trench. His blood is boiling profusely. How Jongin had managed to insult him by calling Kyungsoo short and nerd and unattractive in a span of a hot minute is beyond comprehensible– this guy is just unabashedly the spawn of satan.

Thankfully, Sehun comes into the practice room like a guardian angel on a rescue mission and announces they have to go back for the second session of the class, effectively breaking the thick and awkward tension that has transpired between the two boys. Yixing clears his throat, eventually wrapping his head around the whole situation, and decides it’d be best for Jongin’s group to practice in the vacant studio next to the lockers. Kyungsoo thanks Yixing for the resolution, and Jongin has never been eager to leave the practice room to break away from the bitter atmosphere.

The shitty thing is Baekhyun and Jongdae had actually turned out to be right, as always. Kyungsoo did end up liking the dance classes, and he has managed to eradicate the initial dislike towards sweating and has eventually learned that physical activity is pretty vital considering his sedentary lifestyle. He also learns that while they’re not excellent at it, Kyungsoo and his best friends can actually sport a few dance routines, and they’ve even managed to get a compliment from Yixing himself. 

On the other hand, the shittier thing is the way Kyungsoo will have to see Jongin three times a week. Not technically though, because they’re still kept away from each other in separate rooms after _that_ incident. That will have to work for now. Kyungsoo isn’t about to let any asshole ruin his dancing experience while he’s still practically frivolous about his new pastime.

.

.

.

Two weeks have passed and life has been fairly hectic for Kyungsoo. He realizes that the shittiest thing that’s probably happened to him is the fact that he has to balance literature and dance; his lifelong passion and his newfound hobby. Midterms are fast approaching and a new term paper is already visible from the ghastly horizons. Meanwhile, they’ve also taken up a new choreography in dance class, a song called ‘Growl’ that Kyungsoo feels is so oddly familiar, like he’s heard of it a gazillion times from somewhere in the back of his mind. The dance is fast-paced, and the moves are sharp and precise as well, leaving Kyungsoo and his friends gaping like fishes every time they finish a new routine.

It’s a tepid Wednesday afternoon, the hallways emptying into the onslaught of autumn twilight. It’s a not-so-good day for Kyungsoo, having received a cliff-hanging grade for his Romantic Literature write up. What does he know about romance, anyway? He’s been basing his structure off of logistics rather than auto-pilot feelings. It’s the only thing he currently knows. The remark has probably been expected, but the demise he feels is still no less discouraging.

The session had already ended for a long while now, but Kyungsoo chooses to stay back in the practice room to unwind and gather a few thoughts together. He’s been extra hard on himself with the choreography today that Baekhyun had to step in and remind him that it’s just a dance class, not some national competition.

Kyungsoo sits on the floor, looking down and resting his head between his knees. He’s never felt this drained and tired in a while, and maybe he only has his guts to blame for pushing his own body a bit too far. He knows he must be looking pathetically spent right now, like a beagle that’s just ended multiple rounds of zoomies.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know how long he’s been seated in that position that he doesn’t even notice another figure sauntering around the practice room. Seconds and minutes tick by, and when he finally looks up after catching a few breaths Kyungsoo senses a strange warmth fleeting around the air, like someone had just approached him and immediately left. His eyes catch a fresh bottle of water a few inches from his shoe, propped on the floor, the condensation still apparent on the surface of the clear material.

 _Is this for me? Or…_ Kyungsoo looks around to find any sign of human presence, wanting to thank (or just talk with) the person, but when his gaze reaches the door he sees a familiar tall frame; a familiar tuft of dark brown hair, the same sharp jawline, and the same initials embroidered perfectly on the same sweat shirt when Kyungsoo had first seen him.

.

.

.

“Jongdae and I used to think you’d hate going to dance class...” Baekhyun muses over his fruit tea. It’s the weekend, and instead of going to the theatre like the trio would usually do every 3rd Saturday of the month, they’re stuck in a coffee shop cramming 5 assignments in one sitting. Kyungsoo is stressed, to say the least. 

“We just wanted to try something new, and of course as your best pals we wanted to drag you along too.” Jongdae snickers.

Kyungsoo hums, giving them a dry smile. Indeed, it’s been all new to him; exhausting, distressing, but weirdly refreshing nonetheless. “Yeah, thanks, I guess. I actually have no plans of doing it by myself, anyway.”

The evening rolls by pleasantly, even with the piles of book and paper scattered all over their table. This had quickly become their favorite cafe for an infinite amount of reasons– it’s spacey, warm, cozy, and surprisingly serene despite the regular full house. Soft jazz playing through black and white accents over sleek wooden interior; a sophisticated brew of earthy and minimalist. The huge windows give a dainty view of the ever so busy metropolis. Kyungsoo could stay here for a whole day.

Baekhyun’s voice is suddenly low when he says, “But you know, what’s really surprising for us is the fact that you and that Jongin guy are able to tame yourselves around each other for the past couple of days.” 

Kyungsoo freezes. He _hates_ going down this road of the conversation. “Uh, yeah. As long as he’s not doing anything.” He manages to respond.

“Maybe he really didn’t do anything at all– Ouch! What the fuck?” Jongdae hisses after receiving a pretty strong punch from Baekhyun. His string of words hadn’t gone unnoticed though. “I mean, admit it, Soo. Take everything that’s happened away even for a single minute. Jongin’s a pretty decent guy, and he’s also good-looking. _Very_ good-looking.”

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Baekhyun gives Jongdae a side-eye, but vehemently decides to join in the circus. “He’s right, Soo baby. Look at that luscious expanse of golden skin.. those sexy muscles.. And that billion dollar face. He has a nice voice, _and_ he smells good too.”

Kyungsoo blinks in disbelief. Are his friends really simping for Kim Jongin, out of all people? It’s not like Kyungsoo isn’t aware of all those things– he is, very much so of course, especially now that he’s gotten a good look at Jongin without the hate and disgust clouding his perception. Kyungsoo knows the dancer is very much blessed in the visuals department, both face body wise, and he’d be lying to himself if he denies not having stared at Jongin a little too long some time last week. The water bottle incident has never been brought up, but Kyungsoo thinks it’s okay because he’d have nothing else to say anyway. The tension between him and Jongin is gradually easing, and he can live with that for now.

“Ooohh, I wouldn’t mind getting my ass slapped if it were Jongin out of all peopl–”

Baekhyun doesn’t finish his sentence because Kyungsoo has successfully flicked his forehead, hard, and the latter hopes it’s enough to get the message across that they should just shut up and go on with their school work. Jongdae is covering his mouth, laughing at Baekhyun who’s whining with his hands over his forehead. 

Kyungsoo hopes the coffee shop’s lighting isn’t bright enough for once, because he can literally feel the heat slowly pooling in his cheeks as the thought of Jongin (unwantedly) creeps into his mind.

.

.

.

It isn’t usual for Jongin to stay late in the practice room. Usually he’d be the first one to head into the shower right after dance class, cherishing the little peace and alone time he’d get before flocks of students start crowding in the small space. Today, Yixing had told him he’s feeling under the weather and wants to go home early, and Jongin has no choice but to take his hyung’s position to film their midterm choreography instead.

It’s difficult, and challenging in the most frustrating sense, because this is Yixing’s choreography and only the guy himself can pull of the dance so perfectly. Messing up is the last thing Jongin wants to do— this piece constitutes for 60% of their group’s grades. 

It’s already a few minutes past 6, the whole campus devoid of any trace of natural light, being replaced by the array of fluorescent bulbs instead. Jongin sweats and pants in the practice room, alone, facing his own reflection in the huge mirrors as he musters up all of what’s left in his strength and willpower.

He turns on the music and the camera and starts dancing. One minute had felt too short, and after doing the routine he goes to review the video and, feeling dissatisfied for the hundredth time, deletes it and starts all over again.

He tries to be sharper this time; body swaying and rolling as fluidly as he can only to stop at the exact second, his movements never missing a beat. He makes sure to dance with his face too, feels each melody and rhythm course through his limbs as the song engulfs him whole, taking him to another lambent dimension. Jongin always dances with the intention of telling a story.

After the music stops, Jongin falls to his knees, tiringly catching his breath. This is probably the most intense he’s danced in the last hour or so, and he can already feel his body giving up because of the fatigue. He shakily stands up and goes to the recorder, and after checking the routine with immense concentration, his face goes cold. It’s definitely better than the last one, but it still just isn’t _enough_.

Jongin curses, hastily throwing his beanie to the floor. The anger and disappointment are consuming him, sucking the soul out of Jongin that it makes him want to break down and cry. Jongin knows his perfectionist self can get a little too ahead of him, but he can’t help it, not when there are two people and their grades also hanging on the line.

“You did well.”

Jongin pauses, genuinely startled by the sudden voice coming out of nowhere. He looks back at the door and searches profusely. For a minute he feels spooked out, thinking there might be some ancient ghost lurking around the campus, but then it’s taken him a while to finally register the deep, familiar tone that plagues him on a daily basis.

Kyungsoo comes out of the shadows, standing by the doorway in his usual black ensemble, book bag neatly hanging around one shoulder. He looks apprehensive, shy even, definitely not the Kyungsoo Jongin had known him to be.

“Why are you here?” Well shit, Jongin hadn’t meant for it to sound so mean. He’s just genuinely confused, more than anything else.

But Kyungsoo doesn’t waiver. He blinks, a couple of times. “I just finished a paper in the library, then I saw the lights here in the practice room.”

“Oh.”

There are two people in the studio, but Jongin thinks this is the quietest it’s ever been in the past two hours. He sees Kyungsoo taking a step forward, but the hesitance seems to overpower him because the latter eventually stops halfway.

“I saw you dance and dance, all over again..” Kyungsoo continues. The guarded expression on his face is jarring. “I just wanna tell you that you don’t need to be too hard on yourself… because you’re already good. Very good.”

Jongin is definitely caught off-guard. 

“T-thanks. That means a lot.”

They’re probably standing a good six feet apart, but in this moment Jongin feels like it’s the closest they’ve ever been without having the need to punch each other in the face. In fact, the tension is hardly ever there anymore, and it’s being replaced by an odd sense of lull slowly evaporating between their bodies. Kyungsoo’s head is bent a little, eyes landing on everywhere but the person in front of him, and if Jongin squints hard enough he can see a shade of red faintly painting Kyungsoo’s cheeks beneath the dark evening shadows.

“Um, I gotta go.” Kyungsoo’s voice is subdued. If Jongin hadn’t been paying attention, he wouldn't even hear a single syllable from the former's mouth. Kyungsoo glances at him one last time, and without another word, walks away from the practice room with purposeful steps.

The space around him grows silent again. Jongin doesn’t remember ever feeling this lonely, even when he’s dancing by himself in front of the mirror. Something about Kyungsoo’s words is novel; it's helped his spirit a lot, and although it’s short, his presence in the room had taken a sliver of weariness away from Jongin’s system.

With a newfound vigor, Jongin lets out a breath and takes a few minutes to stretch his limbs properly. He then goes to the recorder, hitting the red button with acute determination. _Just one more time. One more._ He promises himself, whole body shifting into focus as the music begins to play. _I did well. I’m already good enough._ And as the first of the melodies unhinge into the thick air, Jongin loses himself into the dance once again.

.

.

.

It’s weird. Jongin doesn’t want to say it’s putting him off, but it really does. 

After both incidents in the practice room, Jongin feels like meeting Kyungsoo in the hallway almost a month ago had never existed in his memories. These days, there are no snarky remarks, no dirty side-eyes, nothing at all– it’s all Jongin has ever known with regards to Kyungsoo, and to go about his days without the animosity is like coming across a new person for the very first time.

What surprises Jongin the most are the tiny, gradual escalations of their daily interactions— from the quick and shy glances, being able to fully look at each other without malice, to the little smiles and nods they exchange in the hallways and in the practice room. Yes, apparently they say ‘Hi’ to each other now, and it’s hard to think that they were constantly on each other’s throats just a few weeks ago.

Jongin also finds out that Baekhyun and Jongdae are _way_ too ahead of Kyungsoo in terms of friendliness, and it leads to Sehun and Yixing befriending them as well. After the numerous dance classes and the few lectures they’ve shared together, the two friend circles ultimately blend, simmering down into one chaotic melting pot.

Soon enough, Jongin would find himself sitting in the same lunch table as Kyungsoo, and even sharing the same counter with him in the library. They’ve never really had a proper conversation aside from the one in the practice room though. Every interaction would just be clipped into short greetings. Their friends would’ve drowned out every word anyway, considering Jongin and Kyungsoo are the most quiet ones in the group and Baekhyun had just started to develop a weird babying kink towards Sehun. The whole hogging and bickering would last for a whole day.

It’s strange, but definitely nothing less amiable, and the lack of drama is very much welcome. Moreover, now that Jongin has been able to clearly see Kyungsoo in an arm’s length, it’d just dawned on him the full gravity of the latter’s attributes– his huge and dark eyes, the shape of his mouth when he smiles, and the way his eyebrows would meet whenever he’s deep in concentration. Kyungsoo is indeed attractive, by all means. It almost feels like a crime with the way Jongin would catch himself staring a bit too long, but that’s another story he’ll willfully tell on another day.

It’s D-6 before actual midterms week. Jongin feels like dying from all the rehearsals he’d done and all the lectures still waiting to be read in his study. They’ve temporarily put off dance classes after wrapping the final session a few days ago, and Yixing had announced they’ll get back to regular programming once midterm exams are over. However, work doesn’t stop there for Jongin. He has to film a few requirements and kickstart on another routine for pre-fi. A bit far fetched, he knows, but as a dance major one can never be too ready when the semester is about to end in a few months’ time.

To top the existent stress, students under the Arts, Music, and Literature Departments had to attend a collective seminar about god knows what. No one really cares. Or at least Jongin doesn’t. It’s just one of those additional programs organized to give out extra credits after the completion of a post-lecture exam. Useful, yeah maybe, but it’s already 4 in the afternoon and Jongin is too tired to pay attention to an hour-long lecture that he chooses to take a nap instead, hiding behind Sehun’s broad shoulders who is seated directly in front of him.

“Wake up, Cinderella.”

Jongin opens his eyes, ever so slowly, taking in the surroundings and the amount of people talking and roaming around. Right, he’s in the auditorium with a hundred other students. He gets up, twisting his neck and rolling his shoulders carefully because goddamn, it sure didn’t feel like a flimsy 15-minute nap. Jongin had actually fallen asleep.

“Isn’t it supposed to be Sleeping Beauty? Or Snow White?” Baekhyun tells Yixing. He turns to Jongin looking like a disappointed grandmother. “Congrats, you just managed to throw away 45 important minutes of your life. You do know they’ll include a few topics for midterms, right?”

Jongin groans, slouching in his seat. "Ah, fuck." Clearly the stupid lecture had just ended, and students are already making their way towards the exit. Of course he didn’t know about the midterms thing– he deadass _fell asleep_. 

“Hyung, where are the others?”

“Jongdae and Sehun will be waiting for us in the library.” Baekhyun stuffs his notebook in his bag. “Kyungsoo had to go home early, though. Said he’s busy and needs to do a lot of stuff.”

Jongin frowns at that. It must’ve been pathetically obvious for Yixing to actually catch up on it and give him a not-so-subtle teasing smile as a reaction. Jongin diligently ignores him. He’s picking up his books from his seat when he notices a few sheets of paper sticking out between the pages of his Contemporary Dance manual.

Jongin pulls them out and reads through the material. _Wow this handwriting is exemplary_ , is the first thing that comes to his mind. Jongin has never seen a penmanship so neat and elegant, even the content is organized and structured so meticulously. After a while Jongin realizes that they’re supposedly notes from the recent lecture. He’s about to ask Baekhyun and Yixing if they have any idea about these papers when he reaches the last page and sees a short message scribbled at the bottom-most frame of the sheet. Unknowingly, Jongin breaks into a grin.

_You, stop sleeping so much. You look like a tired bear._

_— DKS_

.

.

.

The transition to fall is so peculiar. One minute it’s 35 degrees outside, and in a whiplash Seoul is already bundled up in turtlenecks, trench coats and knee-high boots under the incessant shower of leaves that eventually whirl dead over concrete. Nights are getting longer, and the nearest shopping mall is already starting to play Christmas songs.

It isn’t even Halloween yet, Kyungsoo thinks, staring into nothing in particular. For the past minute he’s been so caught up in daydreaming about winter break that he forgets about the piece of paper staying idle on his desk. It stares right back at him with frustration, posing some sort of challenge, but Kyungsoo can only sigh.

Just last week his professor had given him the chance to redeem his Romance Literature paper. The problem ensues though when Kyungsoo is tasked to do the same topic. He thought he would either get Renaissance or Mythology, but no, he will have to remain hopelessly clueless again for the time being.

This is probably Kyungsoo’s last attempt to ace a good mark before midterms start in 3 days. 1214-KD is his favorite place in the whole campus. It’s the only lecture hall that has windows stretching across the hard white walls, giving a painting-esque contrast against the bland and boring interior. The fact that Kyungsoo is here means he’d been wanting to create something out of the distress that’s been clogging his mind lately.

It’s already 5:30, and Kyungsoo had been jovial to know he can have the whole space to himself for the rest of the afternoon because without a doubt, the sun always sets most magnificently in this room. Here he is, seated in his favorite spot, eyes glued to the dusk embracing metropolitan Seoul, fine pen getting lost in his fingers and his own thoughts.

The room is engulfed by hues of purple and yellow and orange, the last harsh rays of sunlight seeping through the glass windows, creating patterns of light on the concrete surfaces and polished floors. It’s so pretty, so beguiling, like some cinematic picture out of a coming-of-age film. If Kyungsoo can capture how scenic his surrounding is with his very own eyes he would, and he’d visit it in his mind again and again, cherishing each time like it’s the first.

Taking in everything with a hopeful breath, Kyungsoo tries to start all over again, placing his ink on top of the blank canvas. That is, until the wooden door slides open, and Kyungsoo has to look up from his paper to see who the (unwanted) person is.

Jongin stands there, looking a bit lost and fidgety, like he’s actually rushing to go somewhere. He pauses when he sees Kyungsoo across the room, the shorter appearing wide-eyed and unmistakably startled. Jongin wonders if he’d interrupted something important.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

The smiles they’ve given each other are a little meek. Jongin goes around the podiums with careful steps, searching through every single row until he reaches the one near Kyungsoo. 

“Um, did you see any binder? It’s a brown one. I think I left it here during my last class.” It’s taken Jongin a gallon of courage and more just to pose that question, considering him and Kyungsoo still aren't on comfortably casual speaking terms.

“No, but I haven’t really looked through everything when I got here, so..” To Jongin’s delight, Kyungsoo detaches from his seat and actually helps the taller with his search.

Minutes of bending and rummaging in podium caskets pass by, yet not a single trace of Jongin’s binder has been visible in plain eyesight. Jongin plops down on a chair, huffing and running a hand through his slightly messy hair. He looks bothered.

“It better be not my notes though,” Kyungsoo tries, taking the seat in front of him. “I actually hustled during the lecture while you snored your ass away.”

Jongin has hardly stopped the chuckle from coming out of his mouth. Kyungsoo grins, knowing his words have caused that smile to appear. Wait– this is kinda weird. Why is he treating it like some kind of achievement.

“You really didn’t have to. I never got the chance to tell you this but… thank you, Kyungsoo.”

It’s fleeting, but it’s also a flustering moment for Kyungsoo and his senses. This is the first time he’s ever heard his own name come out of Jongin’s lips. It sends an odd buzz that courses through his body, stealing the words right out of his mouth. Speechless, Kyungsoo simply hums in response.

For a short while they stay rooted in their positions, heavy gazes piercing through the urban twilight outside the windows. The silence between them is deafening, yet at the same time it's oddly comforting.

“It was a binder that contained my written reports. I’m gonna be so fucked if I don’t find it by next week.” Jongin muses, deep voice softly mending into the quiet air.

“I’m sure you’ll find it.” Kyungsoo supplies. He’s facing Jongin’s (gorgeous) side profile and can’t help but stare a little. “Maybe it’s just in your bag, or in your locker, or even in the dance studio.”

“Yeah, I really hope so.” Jongin finally turns to him, face offering a shy shadow of gratitude. “Thanks for helping me out.”

Kyungsoo shrugs, smiling. “No biggie.”

It’s inexplainable, what Kyungsoo is feeling now, and even uncannier when he thinks about how him and Jongin have started out not too long ago. It’s crazy how a month could change so much in the trajectory. This time, Kyungsoo feels like he can actually try and build something solid with the dance major. He really wants to. One of them will just have to cross the blurry line.

“I’m really glad that… we’re able to talk like this right now,” Kyungsoo starts, like he’s trudging on thin ice. “I hope we can become good friends and get to know each other better.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice..” Jongin smiles, but it’s bleary. There’s a tiny glimmer of repugnance staining his eyes. “Though I think we should start with apologies first, just to clear things.”

Pause. “Um, what?”

“Apologies. I think we owe each other an apology.”

“Sorry. We?” Kyungsoo repeats, just to make sure he isn’t hearing things. Now how the hell did they manage to come _this_ again.

“Uh.. yeah,” Jongin responds, toeing between conviction and feebleness this time. “I’ll apologize for being a dick, and you’ll apologize for being no less the same.”

Kyungsoo backtracks. “Excuse me, but how was _I_ a dick?”

“You falsely accused me of being a pervert, remember? And you announced it in front of everyone.”

Whatever magic Kyungsoo had felt in the past minute has now depleted completely into the abyss. Jongin’s words feel like a time-ticking bomb atop his already bruised pride. He gets up out of displeasure, firmly crossing his arms in front of the dance major.

“Might as well forget about it, then.” Kyungsoo says. “I am not going to apologize for actually feeling violated.”

Like clockwork, Jongin feeds into the negativity and fortuitously lets himself be consumed by it. “That’s not the whole point, Kyungsoo.” He bites back, as placid as he still can. “You have every right to feel what you’ve felt that day. I’m just saying you’ve been pointing fingers at the wrong person this whole time.”

Kyungsoo’s stature is disproportionate to the pride and stubbornness emanating from his body at times like these. For whatever reason, he just refuses to back down, even when Jongin has already stood his ground and is facing Kyungsoo in all his 182 cm glory.

“Until the truth of the little incident comes out, there’s no one else to blame but you.”

Jongin scoffs, anger building up with each second. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re really out here blaming an innocent guy. That’s on you being a dick.”

“Shut up! Of course you wouldn’t admit it. You’re a fucking pervert!”

“Oh yeah? And you’re a fucking dick nerd!”

And whatever magic Kyungsoo had felt in the past minute has indeed depleted completely now, because the feeling is replaced by something even more dangerous, more exhilarating as their lips crash against one another in one searing and capricious kiss.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know who had taken the step first; he’s certain it was the taller somehow. What he does remember is between the seconds of leeching off of Jongin’s fury and keeping each other on some sort of infuriating pedestal, the line has been inevitably crossed and they’re now here molding against each other like raging fire and deadly ice.

It’s a sloppy mess of lips and tongues, Jongin unable to keep his hands off of Kyungsoo as the latter is melting helplessly against the dancer's chiseled chest. It’s magnetic, the air around them, like there’s some unexplainable force pulling their bodies impossibly closer, the heat unfolding to even greater degrees.

Jongin’s touches feel warm all over Kyungsoo's body, and the mouth against his own is no less intoxicating. Jongin kisses with so much intent and passion that Kyungsoo couldn’t help but to receive it all. His legs start to feel like jelly, but more than anything it has made Kyungsoo waiver even just a bit, eventually stopping mid-kiss and slowly pushing Jongin off of his face.

“Why did you kiss me?” Kyungsoo searches the taller’s eyes. Jongin looks back at him with a greater degree of fondness, his gaze heavy and his full lips slick with spit from the heavy make-out. Kyungsoo thinks Jongin looks beautiful like this.

“Because you’re cute when you’re grumpy, and your glare kinda turns me on.”

As if on autopilot, Jongin’s mouth is on Kyungsoo’s again, this time a whole lot softer. Good to know Jongin has been simping on Kyungsoo’s anger all this time. The kiss is slow and sweet, Jongin taking his time in devouring the smaller’s mouth as he playfully nips on the full bottom lip. Kyungsoo sighs into the kiss, and shit– if his heart really did hammer just now, Kyungsoo would have to pretend it didn't happen. He'd be damned to eternity if the slightest of _feelings_ even start to show up. He doesn’t want to deal with it just yet.

Then Jongin suddenly pulls back, ever so gently, holding Kyungsoo’s face like fragile glass in his hands. Kyungsoo really has the most beautiful eyes.

“Why did you kiss me back?”

“Because I think you’re hotter when you’re mad.. And I’ve been wanting to for a long time.”

And the kiss is back to a dangerous glide of tongues and the occasional clashing of teeth once again, prominently more intense than the previous one. Dusk has now diffused into the evening sky, and the room is starting to get mildly suffocating. As Jongin starts to become adventurous, eager hands memorizing every line and curve of Kyungsoo’s body, his long fingers accidentally graze over the smaller’s cotch, earning him a prolonged and pleasured sound in return.

“Ah, Jongin..” Kyungsoo moans.

“Shit.” Jongin curses, actually hearing his name from Kyungsoo’s lips for the first time. He brings his palm over the same area and feels Kyungsoo’s erection starting to form in his pants. “Jongin, please..” Kyungsoo is practically begging, looking at him with hooded eyes and flushed cheeks and those sinful parted lips. Fuck, Jongin has never wanted anything so bad. He actually considers it for a second before he sees the wall clock staring back at him menacingly, eventually dragging Jongin back to reality and reminding him that Sehun and Yixing are probably starting another choreography without him.

“I’m sorry, Soo, I can’t.” Jongin doesn’t miss the hurt look on Kyungsoo’s face. His own cock is also screaming in pain, but Jongin doesn’t want their first time to be flimsy and hurried and anything less of perfect. “I’m on borrowed time, I have to go back to the studio. Maybe next time?”

Kyungsoo frowns. He feels dejected, and still so unbelievably horny, but the thought of them having a ‘next time’ fuels him more than anything. Maybe this will have to do, for now. “Fine.”

Jongin kisses the pout off of Kyungsoo’s lips before he fixes himself. “Can we talk later, Soo?”

“Sure. I’ll be there in the studio in a bit.” Kyungsoo purses his lips. He knows this can probably wait for later, but the itch in his chest is constantly pushing him to just air out the pressing matter. “Um, Jongin?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you just really kiss me because you think I’m cute grumpy?”

Jongin blinks, a few times, before ultimately erupting into a fit of soft laughter. He ruffles the smaller’s hair affectionately, enjoying the slightly annoyed reaction he gets out of it. 

“No, silly.. Well yeah, maybe a little, but it has to do more with the fact that I’m attracted to you.. And that I think I really like you.”

Kyungsoo smiles in return, the warmth moving to his chest in staccato waves. “I like you a lot too.”

With one last kiss, Jongin heads off to the door, having promised Kyungsoo they’ll definitely talk about all _this_ (and maybe study for midterms afterwards). Kyungsoo reminds Jongin that he still has a binder to find, and tells him not to take too long in the shower because Kyungsoo will already get hungry by then. The dancer responds with a wave and thumbs-up by the doorway, and in a minute he’s already gone jogging away from the lecture hall.

Funny how a whole hour has gone, just like that. If it were all just a fever dream Kyungsoo wouldn’t be surprised, and he wouldn’t really complain either, but the ghost of Jongin’s lips is still unwavering on his own, and the warm touches all over his skin still feel a bit too real. Kyungsoo sighs. All of this is really happening— right in front of midterms week’s salad.

It’s already getting dark, so Kyungsoo goes to switch the lights on and return to his favorite spot by the window. The city has now turned into a canvas of steel blue over sharp greys and the colouful shimmers stand out in between. He picks up the long forgotten pen, settling it between his fingers as he tries to start the dreaded Romance paper. Maybe this time though, Kyungsoo will finally know (who) what to write about.

.

.

.

It’s been a whirlwind of emotions. A whole roller coaster ride. Jongin and Kyungsoo have busted their asses trying to navigate through the dynamics of their relationship to make it work, and now they’re here— still stuck doing the same thing.

But they’ve been honest with each other, above anything else. They know it’s going to be difficult having to deal with the stress of finals on top of the daily misfits their relationship would bring, so Kyungsoo and Jongin have agreed to keep everything between them a sort of a surface-level secret.

They aren’t official though, at least not yet. They’re still getting to know each other at best, and when asked about the real score they’d just call themselves ‘friends who kiss and touch each other on a regular basis’ (Jongin likes the description a lot, much to Kyungsoo’s embarrassment).

Moreover, their friends didn’t know until after midterms. Jongin and Kyungsoo had just wanted to avoid the unnecessary dramatics while still on exams week.

“It’s crazy, really,” Baekhyun speaks with tiny crumbs of biscuit lounging on his lips. They’re all in the cafeteria seated at their usual spot, enjoying a light-hearted meal after the dean had announced that pre-finals will be postponed to next week. “I swear you were just clawing at each other’s faces a week ago.”

Jongin and Kyungsoo shrug in unison, too preoccupied with their respective multitasking business. Jongin is finishing a paper about Ballet history with his latte on the free hand, while the literature major is cramming a week’s worth of lectures he had irresponsibly slept on.

“Right. Kyungsoo hyung, didn’t you go crazy mad and practically started it all because you thought Jongin touched your butt on the last day of Uni Week or something?” Sehun peers at the couple.

Jongin and Kyungsoo cringe in unison. They never wanted to talk about it again, simply for the reason that they’ve already chosen to leave it all behind no matter who the real ‘perpetrator’ turns out to be. Kyungsoo had been stubborn on the first few days, but eventually he came around, telling Jongin he’s sorry for being the biggest egomaniac there is. Jongin had countered Kyungsoo with an apology of his own, saying he’s also sorry for becoming a douchebag of his own league.

There’s a light bubble of laughter encompassing the whole lunch table, but it’s mostly tame and hinged with the way Baekhyun and Jongdae are still too focused on their meals to start with the comical teasing. Kyungsoo predicts lunch would go about peacefully today without some kind of bomb, that is, until—

“Eh?! Touching butts aren’t normal here in Korea?” Yixing looks up from his mandu, finally having wrapped his head around the conversation. He exclaims, “I remember being so happy by the end of Uni Week I decided to slap butts that day as an expression of my profound joy!”

Oh. Well shit. The whole table groans in unison.


End file.
